How home is supposed to be
by WIWJ
Summary: Spoilerish for There's no place like home 2.What if Jordan had noticed something was up before Woody left and actually I don't know.. done soemthing other than stand there in shock? ps. I hate dark Woody.. okay yeah it's sexy.. but it's just not him.


Okay gang, after I finished bawling my eyes out over the rerun of **There's no place like home II **and really remembering how it all went down and watching my beautiful Woody get that shifty 'oh god I'm lying to Jordan' look in his eyes.. I realized I have to do one of those little 'how it should have ended stories or I was going to die waiting 25hrs. For them to make it back to each other (at least till next week) So still crying a little, here it is.

Obviously spoilers from TNPLH2 and obviously they don't belong to me or Jordan would have seen right through Mr. Shifty eyes like she should have.

(Lets say its during the scene in the hall way as Woody is lying to Jordan about giving up on finding Riggs.)

"Come on, this C2 thing could be big. Since when do we let an unidentified finger print come between us?" _He has to smile at that_, Jordan thought. He didn't.

"No. Jordan, no. It's over, okay? I have to back to my desk job." She hated the way he said that, but she was almost too caught up to notice his eyes this time.

"What's going on?" She said softly crossing the distance between them, as his eyes darted off of hers and looked around frantically before coming back. "Talk to me."

_She can't be a part of this_, He reminded himself. She was reaching out her hand to his arm, tentatively as if he was going to smack it away. He realized she might have actually thought that and it made him sick. _What have I done_? _She can't be a part of this. _

He reached down and took her hesitating hand in his, looking at it stroking it absently with his thumbs. _If I do this it's done. If I do this, she'll never forgive me. _

She brought her other hand to his face and he nearly broke down at the touch of her skin against his. _No_, he told himself. _I have to do this and she can not be part of it._

Jordan was watching his eyes flutter back and forth something was wrong; very, very wrong. _Not that anything has been right in a long time. _She thought, tracing her thumb against his cheek for a minute. Suddenly his eyes stopped dancing, he looked at her intently. _Oh god, he's going to kiss me. This is his 'I'm going to kiss her' face. _The thoughts scream across her head. Before she had time to react, his lips were on hers and she was responding. It was not the kiss from the list of Woody's kisses that she knew. It was not the light forehead kiss, or the 'I want you kiss' from the desert or the 'oh my god I've missed you so much' jaw kisses from LA. These were real kisses; I love you kisses, I'm sorry kisses, 'don't hate me' kisses. _Oh god I'm making out with Woody, in the middle of the hall, of the new all business morgue. _As soon as she realized this he had pulled away. His eyes slammed shut and his fists clenched around her before he let go.

"I have to go Jordan_." _He sounded so lost her heart hurt.

"Wait what's going on? Woody?" He was already out the door and half way to the elevator. It had been something in the way he had said 'have' that scared her. Like he was explaining his actions to her. It had scared her enough to run back down to Sydney.

(20 min later, at the auto shop, right as Jordan walks in.)

"How does it feel knowing that your going to die?" He sounded foreign to her, like she had no idea who this man was. "That's right beg."

"Woody!"

"Jordan what are you doing here?" _Damn it! She can't be here now. She can't see me do this. She'll lie for me. She'll go down with me. We'll both loose our jobs._

"Put the gun down, you don't want to do this."

"I watched my father die for nothing because of some punk like this."

Jordan heard the break in his voice again. He was coming unraveled, right there in front of Riggs.

"Woody just give me the gun." His hands shook, she took a step towards him.

"Get out of here, Jordan." _She can't be here_. He heard the gun cock, had he cocked the gun? _No, not while she's here. She can't be here. _"Please, go." She took another step forward and put her hand on his arm. _ "_Please, Jordan I can't… You can't.."

"Give me the gun Woody, he's not worth it." His eyes were red, his lip shaking so slightly only she would have ever noticed. This man, who had been everything to her, now stood in front of her shaking. She squeezed his arm. Carefully, watching Riggs, she came in between them. Letting Woody keep his knee pressed up against the boy's body keeping him pinned against the car.

She pulled his hands back and down towards the floor, she could feel his grip loosening on the gun and she pulled it from his hands. He was broken, desperate, part of her considered shooting Riggs for him. Instead she pulled his cuffs off of his belt and cuffed the boy to a hook on the cars trunk. Woody's body sagged in defeat.

"Call it in, Jordan." He whispered with closed eyes, not hearing the sirens coming in the distance.

"I did." She admitted pulling him towards the door. His back up was arriving, pouring in from every angle to catch the cop killer. Jordan took the bullets from Woody's gun and dropped them into her pocket before put it back at his side. She turned him around and guided him to the small shell of an office a few feet away from the arrest taking place. She sat him down in the chair he pulled her as close to him as she could possibly be. His tears soaked into the front of her red dress as he pressed his face into her stomach, sobbing.

She ran her hands along his arms and down his back as he clung to her and cried. She cried too, desperately wishing she knew what to do in this moment. He cried for his father, the other cops Riggs had shot and himself. She knew he would never be the same. He would never be that boy with the innocent face again. Riggs had took that from him.

After a long time of stroking his back and rubbing her hands through his hair she felt him pull back from her.

"How did you know?" He said softly.

"Sydney broke like a twig when I asked him what the hell happened." She said honestly, touching the side of his face like she had in the hallway.

"How'd you know to ask?" His breathing was evening out now.

"Because I know you." She whispered. "I know those eyes, and I didn't recognize what I saw in them." _And I know your kiss, and I recognized what was in that, _she added in her head. "It scared me, Woody."

He nodded leaning his forehead back on her stomach and pulling his hands down to her hips. He felt her hand close over his neck.

"It scares me too." He mumbled, moving uncomfortably. She felt him wince.

"Oh God, let me look at you." She said quickly pushing him back gently from her. "This was hardly desk duty. You could have hurt yourself. Did you hurt yourself?" She sunk down in front of him and he watched her unbutton his shirt. "Lean back."

"I'm fine." He protested weakly, knowing she should check and that she was going to anyway.

"Let me see." She was using her doctor tone now. He winced again as she pulled back the medical tape and looked at his wounds. He heard her breath catch and felt her fingers trace lightly over each one. She slipped his arm out of the sleeve and looked cautiously at his back. "What did he hit you with?" Her voice broke a little as she moved her hand over the forming bruises."

"I don't know." He lied, not wanting to see her face when he said 'a chain'. "I fell." He said pathetically, like a child to his mother. "I'm okay though really." He felt her relax a little, until he winced again, inhaling sharply.

"No" She said softly. "You hurt." He had to smile at the way she said that, as if it was the worst thing in the entire world, for him to hurt.

"I'll be okay." He put his arm back into his sleeve, her inspection over. He circled his arms back around her waist and pulled her down to his lap. "I'll be okay. I'm just sore." She nodded into him pressing her head into his shoulder for a minute. "Are you mad at me?"

"I don't think so. Are you mad at me?" She asked in an un-Jordan like way. He shook his head and pressed his lips to her hair.

"What do we do now?" He said softly.

"They'll need you to give a statement. They'll need me to give one." She informed him. "We can have Santana do it tomorrow?" He nodded, yes, Santana was a good choice. "And then Stiles." He nodded again holding her a little tighter.

"Take me home, Jordan." He decided.

"Home?" She said absently. "Your apartment?"

"Where ever you're going to be." He whispered. "That's home."

_There's no place like home._


End file.
